


The Kind of Love You Never Recover From

by hhertzof



Series: Emma-verse [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Sarah Jane Smith Audios
Genre: Babyfic, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-15
Updated: 2010-02-15
Packaged: 2017-10-07 06:56:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hhertzof/pseuds/hhertzof
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Doomsday Fix-it fic set mostly post Doomsday (and post Dreamland).  The Doctor finds a way back to his one true love, he didn't know she was pregnant when he left.  There's some drunken sex in here too, but not first time drunken sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Kind of Love You Never Recover From

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Gets a bit dark and twisted in places, characters who talk too much instead of having sex (at one point it was much worse), almost, sort of graphic sex (well, I tried), some cursing and, most importantly, any 10/Rose shippers should run far far away in the other direction. Nothing to see here. Trust me. Oh, and it's songfic.
> 
> **Disclaimer:** Don't own any of them, never will except for Emma who I had to invent cause they'd never do that on telly. Song is "The Kind of Love You Never Recover From" by Christine Lavin.
> 
> An immense thank you to my beta paranoidangel, for catching everything from extra spaces to Americanisms to major issues of clarity.

_I know a couple  
She sits in a rocking chair working puzzles  
He watches TV upstairs  
She has a secret she has never let out  
A man she thinks he never knew about.  
She hasn't seen him in 30 years  
The mention of his name doesn't bring on tears  
If you ask her "Are there any regrets?"  
She'll tell you "No"  
But she never forgets._

She slipped out of the bed smiling at the sight of Josh, still fast asleep, barely covered by the sheets. She knew she'd shocked him the previous night - he'd certainly flirted with her in the past, but only in a light, joking way. He'd believe what he wanted to believe about the events of the previous day, but if she wanted to keep him as a friend, she was going to have to convince him that she wasn't the paragon of virtue he seemed to think she was. She had needed this. Near death experiences always made her tense, and this was such a lovely way to relieve the tension.

There would be other men, and he would have to deal with that. There'd been others before but not the one she really wanted. She hadn't seen him in 25 years (she had, a few times but that was kept walled off in a corner of her mind, chance meetings in pubs, a man with a face she didn't recognize, but a double pulse which she did, who called her Sarah Jane when he came, despite being told the night before her name was Sarah, an unspoken agreement lying between them: "pretend this never happened").

She was still surprised she had told Nat as much as she had - it wasn't something she talked about to anybody and neither Josh nor Nat had ever met her daughter.

Maybe the events of the past five years had given her some sense of closure. Not the last grand adventure that Josh's father had claimed she was still looking for. The sense that perhaps she still had some adventures left in her. Her world would never be ordinary even if she tried and maybe, just maybe, she would never have to settle for normal. She'd spent too much time dreaming of the stars and missing what was right in front of her.

_It was The Kind of Love You Never Recover From  
Even though she found another one to take his place  
She never will escape the truth  
At times like this  
When the moon is bright   
When the air is foggy like it is tonight  
She'll think about what might have been  
If she had just held on to him._

\----

_I know a man who has done it all  
He sailed the oceans  
Climbed the mountains of Nepal  
He lives high up on the Avenue  
With a beautiful wife  
Lovely children too.  
But there's a woman he still dreams about  
Certain things he's learned to live without  
If you ask him, "Are there any regrets?"  
He'll tell you "No"  
But he never forgets._

After Jack was gone, she'd started to cling just a little bit harder and he pretended not to notice. They had worked as a threesome, she'd been willing to share him with Jack. But now...maybe it was Jack's death on Satellite 5 that had made the dangers seem a little more real to her.

Maybe it was his regeneration, new face, new body. Humans didn't do that. She wasn't the first of his companions to have a hard time seeing an old friend looking out of a stranger's eyes.

Maybe it was the regeneration and the distance that came with it; the pain and sorrow no longer threatening to overwhelm him.

Maybe it was just that he no longer needed her as much as he had when they had first met. The Doctor had made his peace a long time ago with the fact that human lives were fleeting. She knew he had lived hundreds of years, but it never seemed to occur to her that there had been others before and there would be others long after she was gone. If he'd been able to change that, it wouldn't have been for her, but for another, before Rose had ever come into his life.

But she was both long gone and just out of reach and if he wanted her to be happy he had to stay away, to let her live her life (his control wasn't perfect, it never had been with her, but he could still pretend this was true). She'd be long dead now, if she had stayed with him. He knew he'd made the right choice but he still missed her.

_It was The Kind of Love You Never Recover From  
Even though he found another one to take her place  
He never will escape the truth  
At times like this  
When the moon is bright   
When the air is foggy like it is tonight  
He'll think about what might have been  
If he had not let her  
Slip away from him._

\----

_I read about a woman who said  
She never regretted   
Anything she's ever done  
Such arrogant words always seem to be spoken by those  
Who then die young._

After Rose was gone, he moved in a daze. He'd never meant it to end like this.

He'd survived the Time War, he'd survive this, somehow.

He swept through the alien tech room, disabling or destroying anything he felt was too dangerous for Torchwood to be messing with. He thought about destroying everything in the room, but there was no way to do that safely, and he wanted to be well away from here, before the clean-up detail came through.

He found one of the computers, started digging through the files to find what he needed. How much they knew about him, details...companions. He'd left too many of them on Earth, in England, in this time period. From what he'd seen, Torchwood considered him an odd combination of hero and threat, and with Yvonne gone (Was she in charge of the entire organization?), after what had happened that day, he didn't know if he'd made things better or worse. If they decided he was a threat, it wasn't impossible that they would target his past associates in an effort to get to him.

He read his own file quickly, finding it an odd collection of facts and supposition and some interesting omissions. They were unsure whether "The Doctor" was a post, that several men had held or a single man, and had missed three of his regenerations completely. They still had too much information. He could wipe these computers, destroy the Canary Wharf site, but there might be another location or an backup elsewhere. There might be paper files, still. Too much information but not enough to know for sure. He dumped all the files to a portable drive he'd retrieved from the TARDIS. It would be a starting point, at least. Not for him, better if he vanished for a while and what he needed would require extended access to Earth based resources.

There was one person.... He cursed, hating himself for doing this to her. He'd given her the goodbye she wanted the last time they met, and had promised himself he'd leave her to live her life. The same promise he'd broken before. She wouldn't thank him for showing up on her doorstep now; dragging her back into his world. She should know Rose wouldn't be around to take her up on her offer, he rationalized, and she was the logical person. She was still a journalist. and he suspected she still had ties to UNIT. Torchwood knew about the business at the school and they knew he'd seen her recently. She would probably be one of the first they targeted if they chose that route. None of the others had the skill, knowledge or connections that she had. There really was no choice.

He finished with the computers, not wiping them completely, but corrupting the data that he'd rather they didn't have. No guarantee, but it was worth a shot, and he knew they would expect him to try.

He moved the TARDIS to a secluded location, thankful that the dimensional stabilizers had worked, and it hadn't got pulled into the void. Then he walked to the nearest tube station and joined the evening commuters; one dark suit among many. Thinking of her, and knowing in his hearts that this was just an excuse to see her again.

The one thing that had never occurred to him, was that she might not be alone.

_So here am I   
Looking at you   
Oh tell me  
What are we gonna do?  
Am I destined to be your regret  
Are you that one I will never forget?  
Years from now will we curse the day  
You let me let you walk away  
Isn't this too dear a price to pay  
For the freedom  
Of going separate ways?_

After it was over, Nat had ordered Chinese, and Sarah had dug up a bottle of wine. She tried not to show how shaken she was. Cybermen and Daleks, here! Someday, she might get the full story, if Rose ever took her up on her offer. She had no doubt he'd been involved.

She realized Josh was speaking and forced herself to concentrate on his words. Josh was here and he wasn't and never would be and she'd promised herself she'd stop living in the past.

The doorbell rang, and Josh went off to pay for the food. Nat looked at her thoughtfully.

"Are you sure you're okay, Sarah? You seem a bit shaken."

"After what just happened? The robots and..." Sarah's words broke off , recognizing a voice inquiring about her, and she headed for the door. It couldn't be.

"Who are you and how did you find this place?" Josh sounded hostile. Sarah couldn't blame him. After all the times that he'd had to deal with her flat being trashed and all the times that he'd had to help her disappear after she'd been discovered once again by people who wanted her dead or ruined, she couldn't expect Josh not to worry when a stranger came round looking for her.

"It's okay. He's a friend." She moved around Josh to hug the Doctor. "Bad day?" she asked, though it was obvious in his eyes, in the way he was holding himself, the way he was holding her, just a little too tightly. He was alone and a question froze on her lips. A conversation to be saved for later, once they were alone. She knew Josh had planned on spending the night, but he'd live if she kicked him out after dinner. It really was no contest.

"Come in, we were just about to have dinner. You'll stay." The last wasn't really a question. Josh didn't look all that thrilled at her invitation. The Doctor might have looked amused, if he had been less shaken. He had known her a very long time.

"Sorry, Doctor, this is Josh Townsend, my assistant, Josh, this is the Doctor, and you're not going to get any other name out of him so don't bother." Suddenly, the absurdity of the situation hit her and she giggled a little hysterically. Both men looked at her, startled by her outburst.

"Sarah?" The Doctor asked. Daleks and Cybermen, he thought, too close to home. She knew the threat, better than most. "You okay?"

"Sorry, it's just...having the two of you in the same room...." She turned to the Doctor, "Come, meet Nat."

She was aware of Josh, trailing behind them. The Doctor's concern for her seemed to have eased his earlier suspicions, but she knew he was still a little off balance. She'd never mentioned the Doctor to him at all. She thought of Harry and winced inwardly. She hoped this wouldn't go the same way.

Dinner went better than she expected. The Doctor had got better at playing human, which surprised her, and Josh had relaxed, trusting him because she did. They had talked a little about the days events, before the conversation had turned to trading anecdotes about her. Embarrassing, but she hadn't minded. At least the Doctor had recovered a little, coming up with a few silly, innocuous stories. She tried to ignore the fact that he'd been quieter than usual and drinking rather steadily, but she was too, this was what they had always done. It was almost a relief when the others left. Josh had asked if she wanted him to go, even before Sarah had said anything. She hoped his later questions wouldn't be too awkward.

He was staring out of the window when she entered the living room. She wordlessly filled two glasses with scotch, offered him one.

"I thought you should know that Rose won't be taking you up on your offer." His voice was quiet, almost steady as he told her about the ghost shift, the Cybermen, the Daleks, Torchwood.

His voice faltered as he told her what had happened to Rose. Safe but inaccessible. Not dead like Jack. Just gone, with so much left unfinished.

He stared down at his hands, and she touched his shoulder offering sympathy. Swallowed the rest of the scotch in her glass and wished there was more. They had finished off the bottle while he was talking. Not knowing what to say. Wondering if she could do this. Resenting Rose.

It was a scene they had played before. He would show up when his world was falling apart, they'd drink too much, end up in bed together, and she'd keep her silence. The last thing he needed was more guilt. She'd almost told him last time, when she'd run into him by accident, acting almost whole, but then, when they were alone, he'd broken down over Jack. In the end, she couldn't do that to him. She had met Jack once.

And then he reached up and kissed her deeply and something broke inside her.

"Don't do this!" she snapped, pulling away, hating herself for wanting it anyway, even if he didn't mean it. She knew this was all about Rose. She walked over to the fireplace, trying to regain her composure and failing miserably.

"Don't think you have to pretend...," she broke off, wincing, "Or is that it? Are you looking for some substitute? Thinking you can get the ex into bed tonight, pretend I'm her? Any human in a storm. Can't do much about the age difference, but if I'd had some warning I could have bought a blond wig. God knows, I've never had much resistance to you."

He just stared at her back, stunned as she continued her rant. She'd never reacted like this before. She had always welcomed him back into her life, even if only for a moment, or had pretended to. He realized he had never really known how his visits had affected her. She had been angry last time too, up until he had crashed and burned, but not like this.

No, this was all wrong. She'd spent too many years trying to convince him that he shouldn't feel guilty about wanting her, ever. She had no idea where this anger was coming from. She had accepted this relationship a long time ago. She didn't know why she was resenting it now.

He finally turned back towards her, catching her wrists, and pressing her against the wall and when he replied it was with a bitterness that stunned her. "Maybe I should have called her Sarah! Maybe then she would have understood!"

She didn't bother trying to free herself. He was so much stronger than she. This is what happens when we actually talk, she thought. The weight of his body made it hard to think, hard to breathe, and his obvious arousal proved the truth of his words.

He was yelling at her now. "You don't get it, do you? Why my first reaction to losing her would be to run to you. It's you. It's always been you. You asked the last time we saw each other why I had never come back. I couldn't. Walking away from you is something I could only do once. Staying with you, watching you grow old and die would have destroyed me. Leaving you there meant I could always go back if I needed you."

"Except you didn't, not really. I've seen you what, six or seven times since you left? No time to talk, except the last. Just a quick fuck and you were gone again. Half a dozen regenerations, you said! How many years has it been for you?" Still angry, but almost automatic. If he hadn't been holding her wrists, she would be clawing at his clothes by now. She settled for shifting her body beneath him, knowing it would provoke a response.

He kissed her hard, bruising her mouth, then let go of her wrists so that he could pull off her top, still holding her in place with his body. She sighed her approval as his hands slid down her bare skin, slipping around the back to release her bra. Her freed hands sought out the buttons on his jacket She thought for a moment of another time when the jackets had been velvet and the shirts had been ruffled, but hunger for the man in front of her, whatever he looked like, pushed the thought quickly out of her mind. It was still him, after all.

He was kissing her again, not touching her though, giving her the chance to strip off his jacket. She did her best to make quick work of his shirt fumbling with the buttons in her haste to get his hands back on her body where they belonged, despite being distracted by his mouth which had strayed first to her throat and then her breasts.

She finally got it off then her hands snaked round his back to pull him against her, glorying at the feeling of skin on skin, hearing him moan her name in her ear, before nipping at her earlobe, then sliding down to lick her neck. Then they were racing each other, fumbling with buckles and buttons and zips. Not talking because their mouths were being put to better use.

He thrust inside her roughly, any hint of control long since shattered and she wrapped her legs around his waist trusting him and the wall to support her weight. They both climaxed far too quickly and leaned there panting for a moment before she removed her legs from his waist to stand unsteadily, staring at each other uncertainly.

There was no point in trying to talk. Not now. She drew him into her bedroom, pressed him down on the bed, straddled him and rode him hard. Not caring that her nails were digging into his chest deep enough to draw blood or that he was holding her hips so tightly she'd have bruises tomorrow. They were both too damaged to be doing this now, but here they were falling back into the same old pattern. Hurting each other with their bodies, because in the end it was kinder than anything they could say to each other. Holding on way too tightly to a moment, because forever was impossible for them.

Later, sated and spent, she wrapped her arms around, him her head nestled against his chest, savouring the coolness of his body, the sound of two hearts beating.

He bent down to say something and she froze, interrupted him. "Don't you dare. You promised me once that you wouldn't." A promise he hadn't kept. She always had to remind him that sex with her was never something he had to apologize for. She didn't want him apologizing tonight, not when he was wracked with guilt over losing Rose. She remembered what she had said to him earlier and cursed inwardly. She used to be able to do this.

"I hurt you, Sarah. I always hurt you. You never used to drink so much." She stiffened beside him. "If you need to be drunk to deal with me why don't you just send me packing? Tell me no for once."

"Skewed sample, Doctor." Her voice was brittle. "You think I drink like this all the time? If I'm drunk, I don't have to deal with the guilt I cause you. I've never been anything to you but a shameful secret. I was never...." Never the lover, not openly. She shifted away from him, trying to think.

"Sarah," he said and touched her shoulder, wishing he knew what to say. It had been close to 400 years for him. She had been his first human lover and she'd met most of the others. She had watched him flirt openly with Jack, the one time they met.

"God, you come round when you can't bear your own darkness any more, when you're drowning in guilt and pain and I can't help trying to fix things, even when I'm barely keeping my own head above water. If I drink, I don't have to be strong and send you away, even though I know you'll just feel worse if you stay."

"It never occurred to you that your method of coping might be part of the problem. Too many nights when you were drugged, drunk or dealing with the after effects of mind control." He had always known he was asking too much of her but had never found the strength to stop.

She curled up, wrapped her arms around her knees, cursing her own stupidity. She had always needed an excuse. Especially at the beginning, when she was so afraid he'd reject her. A safety net, so that she could face his anger or his horror with a smile and blame her behaviour on "not being herself".

He was still speaking. "I always felt like I was taking advantage of your weakness. That, if you'd had a choice you wouldn't have chosen me. You never asked me for anything and I always felt like I was asking for too much. And you're right, I've used you way too often to push back the darkness." He couldn't see her face and had no idea what she was thinking.

She finally turned back to him. She didn't know if she could fix this, but she had to try. She reached up and touched his cheek. "Aren't you listening to me? The last thing I've ever wanted to do is send you away." She looked away and her voice softened, almost to a whisper. "When I was 24 I didn't believe in consequences; I thought I could play with fire and not get burned. I forgot or didn't know that humans sometimes make stupid choices, and that love can't be controlled. I'm not the first person to fall in love with a man she can never have and I won't be the last. There are mornings when I wake up beside Josh or another man in a blind panic because the body beside me is too warm and I can only feel one heart beating."

He stared at her. He had always believed that if he could just let her go, she would move on with her life. She had said, six months ago, "You were my life," and he hadn't understood. Or, perhaps, he hadn't wanted to understand.

She paused, trying to regain control. She had already said too much. "Don't listen to me. I'm drunk. I'll be fine in the morning." The same old excuse.

She closed her eyes, half asleep, or just pretending to be. He stroked her hair, lost in thought.

\----

His reverie was disturbed by the sound of a key turning in a lock. Sarah hadn't mentioned a house mate; Josh clearly lived elsewhere whatever their relationship was. He hesitated, and then slipped out of bed to investigate. Something was disturbing him, and he wasn't quite sure what. His clothes were still in the living room and he should retrieve them. He found a dressing gown in the bedroom. Josh's? He put it on and walked quietly down the hall.

Whoever it was was comfortable enough to have turned on the light in the kitchen, and to be talking on her mobile in rapid Welsh.

"It's okay, Cat. I'll crash at mum's tonight and go round early to take a look. See what I can do to sort things out. If there's anything left to sort out. Could have done without the flat tire though."

He paused at the doorway to the kitchen and stared at a tall girl with dark curly hair. She had her back to him, rummaging in the fridge. Sarah Jane had a teen aged daughter. He couldn't blame her for not telling him. Not now. Not when she'd seen him travelling with a girl not all that much older. Peter Pan had taken Wendy's daughter. Not that he'd ever do that to her. Suddenly, a name caught his attention.

"What's the point of having security protocols if Yvonne ignores them and does whatever she damn well pleases? God, I hope the new boss has more sense. First she decides that she's going to go ahead with her plans without bothering to institute even the most basic safety measures, and then she..."

The girl turned, and caught sight of him and broke off with a curse. She said quickly into the mobile, "Dropped something. Got to go. I think mum's awake. We can talk tomorrow. Tomorrow, Cat!" She hung up and dropped the mobile on the table.

"I hope to heaven you didn't park that damned blue box of yours some place obvious like the back car park."

"It's some where safe. I can be stealthy if I need to, and I didn't want Torchwood knowing that I was still on Earth. You work for them, I take it." A nod. He stared at her. "Do they hire teenagers, then. You can't be more than what, 14, 16?"

"25." The answer came with a snap that surprised him and then it registered and he froze. She stared at him a second, absorbing his shock. "You didn't know. I thought you knew. I thought...," she trailed off not really sure what to say.

He finally found his voice, murmured, "Teenager for a relative value of teenager. You're my daughter." His fault for leaving Sarah the way he had, never following up properly, never thinking. He added, "And you look the right age, for a Time Lord."

He didn't know how to do this; it had been so long since he had been a father. The girl was just staring at him, and he had no idea what to say. He busied himself making a pot of tea, trying to give her some time to recover. Normally, he'd be chattering lightly about nothing in particular, but after the day he'd had, he didn't have the energy and he didn't want her to think he was making light of the situation. He finally said, "I don't even know your name."

Emma was caught between shock and horror and it took her a moment to answer. She had assumed he'd known about her, no matter what her mother had said to the contrary. She had figured he was too busy saving the world to give a damn about the daughter he left behind, and that her mum was just protecting her.

Finally she said, "Emma. Emma Elizabeth Smith. Mum thought she was being cute, naming me E. E. Smith." Her mum had never been terribly discreet, when it came down to it. Especially after Emma had started showing signs of her father's brilliance. Trusting in the anonymity of "John Smith" on her daughter's birth certificate, and assuming that anyone who knew which John Smith she was referring to would assume it was a convenient lie. The existence of a place like Torchwood had never occurred to her mum.

She hesitated, "They used to call me 'Doc' at uni. At Torchwood that has other connotations, so they've avoided it. I'd always used Lensman on the Internet, and that's what they call me." The elephant in the room. She had been speaking on the phone in Welsh, so that her mother wouldn't understand, but she had no doubt he had.

She finally shook off her inertia and fetched the cups and a packet of Bourbon Creams from one of the cupboards. Her mum usually had jelly babies, but she wasn't sure where, and if he wanted some, he could ask. She considered, then retrieved some leftover Indian take out from the fridge.

He turned finally and looked at her awkwardly. "Torchwood isn't a safe place for you." This was worse than any of the possible scenarios he had come up with. It had been clear from the way Yvonne had spoken that had she had her way, he would have ended up just another piece of alien tech in Torchwood's arsenal. He shuddered to think what they might do to his daughter. Use her as a pawn or worse.

He tried to remain calm. He'd never been a part of her life and she was old enough that she wouldn't take kindly to him laying down the law. "Emma, if they find out that I'm your father..."

She broke in, trying to reassure him, though she didn't know why. "It's a bit late to be worrying about that. They have too many pieces. I don't think they've put them together though. They seem to attribute most of them to mum being your companion and friends with the Brigadier.

"I didn't find out their true mission until I'd been there three months and in hindsight I said and did a few things I shouldn't have. I was afraid if I left then, they'd start putting the pieces together. I've got some other job offers now, and I'll try giving notice in a few months and see what happens."

The microwave beeped, and she dumped the food on a plate and sat down to eat, not caring if he thought she was being rude. She hadn't had dinner yet and she still didn't know why she had said so much.

When she was little, she had loved her mum's stories of their fantastic adventures together. As she had got older, she had started to doubt them. How could her mum think the Doctor was so wonderful, when he'd deserted her with an alien child to raise? Emma had gone through periods of trying to be normal, hoping to be less of a burden, but had never been very successful at it.

Deep down she still believed that if he had cared, he would have known somehow. She'd lived through too many years of needing him and not having him. Always out-of-sync with her peers. Too bright, too immature. Her mum had tried her best, but there were some things she had never known enough about her father's people, about Time Lord biology and what she had known had seemed more personal than practical.

Working at Torchwood had been weird. She had never wanted to be human as desperately as when she learned of her father's significance in the organization and then the questions had started. "Did your mum really travel with him?" "Did you ever meet him?" "Did your mum ever tell you stories?"

After a while, she had dug up a couple of pictures of him and her mum to put on her desk, though she bought a less noticeable car and stopped driving Bessie to work. She told heavily edited stories, because her co workers all seemed to think he was amazing. They would never understand her ambivalence towards him.

She had tried that first, saying, "Mum thinks he's so wonderful, but I got sick of her stories after a while. I bet she made half of it up," but to her surprise they had defended him. Torchwood's files had too many examples of times when he had saved the world. Most of her co workers regarded him as a hero, not a menace.

After a few minutes of silence, he pulled out a chair and sat down beside her. He had thought she'd elaborate on what she had said, but she seemed lost in thought or she was just ignoring him. At least she seemed to have a plan. How many times had he walked into a dangerous situation without one, trusting to improvisation and luck? He contemplated his cup of tea, as though it held some answers.

She sounded like him but looked like Sarah. He wondered what else she had inherited from him. She didn't seem angry with him, but he was so angry with himself. If he hadn't been her father, Torchwood would have been a safe place for her. He suspected she just wanted him back out of her life.

Lost in their own thoughts, they didn't notice Sarah in the doorway. "Emma, I wasn't expecting you tonight," Sarah said quietly, looking a little pale.

She turned to the Doctor. "I'm sorry. I should have told you. I meant to tell you. It just never seemed to be the right time." This was her worst nightmare. As much as she wanted him to be a part of Emma's life, she'd never pictured the meeting like this. The Doctor looked like he'd been punched in the stomach. He hadn't needed another reason to feel guilty tonight.

"Our timing was always horrible. Among other things." The dangers of never talking about anything. They had convinced themselves over and over there would be no consequences to their actions.

Emma finished eating and tossed the container in the bin, not looking at either of them. "I've got to get some sleep. I need to be at work early." The Doctor suspected that was a polite lie. She was avoiding him and he didn't blame her.

_This is The Kind of Love You Never Recover From  
Don't tell me that I'm gonna find another one to take your place  
I never will escape the truth  
At times like this  
When the moon is bright   
When the air is foggy like it is tonight  
I'll think how sweet life could be  
If you would stay with me  
Oh stay with me_

After Emma left, Sarah turned to him and said, "Don't assume she doesn't want you in her life. I never saw a sign of teenage rebellion in her until she left university. She grew up in a society where she's considered an adult already, and she tries just a little too hard to prove she can handle it. Even when she can't. Give her some time, and let me talk to her." She poured a cup of tea, and sat down beside him, in the chair Emma had vacated.

"It's just...she's working for Torchwood. It's bad enough there's a government organization built on a premise that I'm their enemy. I don't want them using my daughter as a pawn." He closed his eyes. "I spent too much of my life as a pawn, being used by the High Council to do all the tasks they didn't want to sully their own hands with. They had too much of a hold on me." He stopped speaking and she covered his hand with her own.

He forced himself to continue. "I want to think I'd never have let them near her, but if I had known before this, if the Council had found out about her, she might have been on Gallifrey during the war. I might not have been able to get her home to you before it was too late. They used me right up to the bitter end, Sarah. I was the only survivor because they needed me to push the button. To destroy the Daleks but the Daleks just keep coming back, taking everything I still care about!" Jack. Rose. "I don't know how much longer I can do this."

"But you will. You'll keep putting one foot in front of the other. The first thing that attracted me to you was the great joy you had in living. It might take a little time but you'll find it again." Still trying to fix him. His Sarah Jane.

He took her hands and led her back to the bedroom. Kissed her eyelids, her mouth. When she reached for him he caught her hands lightly. "Do you think we can be gentle for once, Sarah?"

"Maybe, for once."

He let go of her hands and she traced soft fingers across his chest exploring his new body. They hadn't taken the time for this in so long, she had forgotten how good he could be with his hands. They had both forgotten how it felt not to be holding on too tightly to something that they knew they could never keep. Hard to remember now, the nights when kisses had mixed with laughter instead of anger. She suddenly grinned at him and pounced, tickling him mercilessly.

"Sarah what are you...? The rest of the sentence was lost in laughter. She couldn't remember the last time she had heard him laugh like that. Still smiling, he flipped her over on to her back leaning over her absently stroking her breasts. "I suppose I should be grateful you aren't sitting there in one of my shirts singing cheesy love songs to me."

Sarah laughed. "You can take the girl out of the seventies.... I didn't want to remember that. How good we were together. I convinced myself that that could only happen on the TARDIS, far away from the real world, out of time." She had forced herself to forget those nights, when laughter turned to kisses and everything had seemed so right. She pressed her fingers to his lips, watched him lick them, teasing them with his tongue. "That feels so good. Bit of an oral fixation, you've got there. Not that I'm objecting."

He slid his mouth down her hand, kissing her palm, reaching over to kiss her lips, tease her tongue with his. He was lying on top of her now and she shifted beneath him, rubbing her whole body against his. "You're a fine one to talk about fixations. What about this fascination you have with seducing my boyfriends?" He kissed her again and her hands reached up to tangle in his hair. His hands moved down her body seeking out each nerve, making her sigh and moan and forget about talking for a little while. She felt one of his hands slide between her legs teasing her clit, testing. She moaned and pressed against it.

"I share...mostly. Besides I had Harry first, so that only leaves two." She bent her head down to tease one of his nipples. Thought about reaching down to stroke his cock, play with his balls, but she could feel him hard against her thigh already, and she wanted to prolong this. "I vote the topic of other lovers be closed for the night. Or I start singing. Haven't found anything worse than Afternoon Delight, but I'm sure I could come up with something almost as bad." She slid a nail gently down his spine, causing him to tremble.

"You're awful. Not an awful singer. I quite like your singing. But incorrigible. Don't you dare. That pun has been done to death." His voice blurred. "You're so warm and wet, are you ready for me, Sarah Jane?" He didn't bother waiting for an answer; she didn't expect him to. He shifted slightly, rubbed his length across her clit, and was rewarded by a whimper.

"Damn it, Doctor, stop teasing." He eased himself inside her. Not like the sharp thrusts she was accustomed to, but a slow penetration, making it last as long as possible. By the time he was completely inside her, they were both trembling and breathing hard. "I think we've set a new record, Doctor." It was hard to find the breath to speak. "Now can we agree that gentleness and self control are overrated?"

"Oh, yes." She couldn't tell if he was agreeing with her or exclaiming in pleasure, but it really didn't matter. He had started moving inside her in his more familiar hard, fast rhythm, and her own body automatically fell into sync. He bent his head to take one of her breasts in his mouth and she ran her hands up and down his back, stroking and caressing, urging him on. He shifted to suck at her other breast, and she slid her hands lower, catching at his buttocks to press him deeper inside her.

He knew she was close, so he shifted, thrust hard and fast, and was rewarded with a scream of pleasure and the feel of her body shuddering beneath him. That was enough to push him over the edge. "Sarah. My Sarah. My Sarah Jane." He barely felt her arms wrap around his body, pulling him close as he came inside her.

After a few moments, she let go of him and he rolled off of her to lay on his side beside her. She fell asleep, curled against him, the way she always did and he dozed off himself for a short time. He woke refreshed and watched her sleep for a while. Then, cursing his restlessness, he kissed her lightly and eased out of bed, thinking that he might try to talk to Emma.

\----

Emma heard movement in the hall, and opened the door. She had started going through the reports of what happened at the Canary Wharf site and had realized that Yvonne had outdone herself. Whatever the final reports might say, the blame for this fiasco fell on Torchwood and he had had to pick up the pieces. She decided that she'd catch him before he left. He was still a stranger to her, but he deserved a chance to be more, if he wanted it.

She was surprised to see him in the dressing gown he had worn earlier. "I thought you were leaving," she said, awkwardly.

"I wasn't planning to." He hesitated. "How about a cup of tea? Your mum's asleep, and I don't want to disturb her." He was surprised when she took his hand and led him to the kitchen.

He realized something on the way. "Um, about your mum and me..."

She broke in. "I shared a house for several years. Taught me to block out just about anything." She smiled at him. "Are you two back together, or what?" She leaned against the counter. It was so odd talking to someone who might understand. She had never had anyone like that in her life.

"Not sure. It's complicated. We've never had what you'd call a functional relationship but being together has always been less painful than being apart. So, um, telepathy?" Changing the subject. He and Sarah had trouble discussing their relationship with each other, he wasn't comfortable discussing it with anyone else, least of all their daughter.

"Yeah, and some weird awareness of time shifts." She looked up at him then added, "Vocabulary issues. English doesn't necessarily have words for this stuff." She giggled. "When I was three I threw a tantrum because I couldn't understand why I couldn't find crayons to match all the colours I could see." She watched him move about the kitchen restlessly fiddling with things. Her mum had always said she was her father's daughter, but it was weird to see it in person.

He knew he didn't see things the same way as humans; how confusing that must have been for a small child. Sarah would have picked up on it and done her best to explain why Emma was different, but it wouldn't have been easy for either of them.

She continued, "Um. Fast reader, good at maths and science. I was working my way through university textbooks at the age of nine. Mum said it was okay not to live up to my potential so I didn't really. Spent most of my school years as the bored bright kid in the back of the class getting into trouble."

"Me, definitely."

"Mum said it was her too. She had some lovely stories. So what else has she told me I got from you? I love to tinker with stuff. Good with people, despite finding humans bewildering at times. The obvious biological stuff. Two hearts, low body temperature, hyperactive and no attention span to speak of. Horribly immature."

"That's also me." He couldn't help grinning at her. "Look, I know you were upset to see me here. Found out that there was an organization whose mission was me, who were playing with forces they didn't understand and was worried they might target people close to me. Your mum tops the list for a number of reasons. I thought she should know, and well, as I said before, our relationship is complicated." He finally pulled out a chair and sat down.

"Regarding Torchwood, I don't know if your mum ever told you, but I was used as a pawn for too long, I don't want my daughter to become one. I agree with you that it's not safe to leave now but watch your back."

She occupied herself with the tea, trying to marshal her thoughts. She found some biscuits, then   
finally said, "Either Torchwood's analysis department is astonishingly incompetent, or they know and they're just keeping me where they can see me. I'm not sure. They don't exactly list Torchwood's true purpose on the recruiting materials. You ate all the Bourbon Creams."

He grinned at her, ignored the accusation and said, "You were recruited? I thought you were too busy getting into trouble, to do well in school."

"Yes, I was recruited. Might not have been the top of my class due to laziness and lack of interest, but I was always in the top 1% without trying too hard. Bright, creative. In other words, precisely what they were looking for and it sounded like it might challenge me. High salary. So I took the job."

Too many years of not living up to her potential, he supposed. He might have done the same in her position. "So..."

"I still don't know how I passed the background check, looking back. God, I gave the recruiters the same story mum always tells. That my dad was this eccentric scientist mum knew back in the seventies named John Smith who disappeared just before mum found out she was pregnant. They must have thought she was lying and that the name she'd put on my birth certificate was just a useful fiction. They wouldn't be the first. Anyway, I go into work the first day. Driving Bessie, mind you. You don't mind, do you?"

He grinned at her. "I wondered what had happened to her. I haven't needed a car in ages. Glad you've got her. Did you drive her tonight?"

"No, I bought a new car when I realized they might decide to commandeer her. I've still got her though. So where was I? First day of work I fill out the paperwork for my parking spot which involves enough information to prove that she was your car, and repeat the story about my father. A month of living in Wales and I'm speaking Welsh like a native, even though I know better." She sipped her tea, wincing at the memory. A faculty for languages didn't explain that at all.

He patted her hand reassuringly.

She continued. "Three months later, they tell me my probation period is over, and once I've signed the confidentiality agreements, tell me the true nature of Torchwood. Freaks me out. The next thing I know my co-workers are buying me drinks and asking me if Sarah Jane Smith is really my mum and if she ever told any stories about 'The Doctor'. I think that because of their mission, Torchwood people are more aware than anyone else of just how many times you've saved us. I really don't know what would happen if I tried to leave though." She stopped. Her mum always said she talked too much.

Which matched with what he'd seen at the Canary Wharf site. The applause had been rather odd. "Well, promise me you'll watch your back. And find some way to alert your mother if anything goes wrong. Sarah Jane doesn't need protecting. She can take care of herself and you too, if she needs to." He'd never been good at subterfuge either. At least his choice of clothing was a little more subtle than it had been.

She stared at him then said, "It's weird seeing the two of you like this. When I was growing up it was always "your dad" or "the Doctor". She never spoke of your relationship in that way. I thought it was something...more casual."

"I'm not sure we've ever known what our relationship was. We can never be exactly what the other wants. For a long time we didn't even try. We started out as a couple thinking it wouldn't last, but for a moment we could pretend we were on the same page. After a while, biology reasserted itself. She expected me to be more human and I expected her to be more like a Time Lord. As you said earlier, there are some things that are untranslatable." He stared into his now empty cup.

"And now?" The one thing she had never expected. She'd known other kids who had longed for their parents to get back together, but she never had. It had always seemed too long ago and too far away.

"Now we're back to the beginning, I think. A little more experienced. A little bit better at asking for what we need and compromising when necessary. A little bit more aware of where the lines are, of what will cause trouble, of how to bridge the gap. The main thing is that we're admitting we want to be in each other's lives in some way, even if it is difficult." He hadn't realized that until he'd said it. After everything that had happened, it finally looked like they had a second chance.

She noticed he seemed a bit uncomfortable, and decided that was all she needed to know, now. Let her parents work out their own relationship. She'd never interfered in her mum's life in that way. There had been a time, when she had thought that the best thing she could do was grow up and leave home, and hope it wasn't too late for her mum to have a proper human family.

It wasn't until she'd moved to Cardiff, that she'd realized that her mum hadn't shown any interest in doing so. If the Doctor made her happy, Emma had no intention of standing in their way. She asked him a question about Time Lord biology instead.

They drifted on to other topics. Fixed the coffee pot. The Doctor was just thankful it wasn't the toaster. He always ended up fixing the toaster. Finally, they left the kitchen, Emma to the spare bedroom, and the Doctor to Sarah's, both feeling more at peace. They weren't a family yet, but they had made a start.

\----

Sarah woke the next morning to the sound of a voice in her ear. "Morning, sleepyhead."

"You didn't have to stay."

He smiled at her. "I never knew you wanted that before. Never realized...." He kissed her gently, then started again. "I figured out why Rose gets under your skin. She asks me for things which you never dared. You took what little I gave you and buried it in your heart, never daring to ask for more. Tried to convince yourself that it was enough but you always believed it was too much."

She turned to look at him. Everything he was saying was true. She had decided a long time ago that just seeing him again occasionally would have to be enough. She'd never wanted to bind him the way Rose did.

"I talked to Emma for a while while you slept. You taught her, whether or not you were aware of it, that I didn't have anything to give her. I meant what I said last night, that it was always you. Torchwood knows I've seen you recently, so they'll be keeping an eye on you no matter what I do. I want to see you again. No excuses, no alcohol. Sarah, if I'm asking more than you can give, you need to tell me. You've spent too much of your life waiting for me to come back. I just...I'm not sure I can stay away. I don't want to stay away." He was starting to believe this was what she wanted. Now, if only she would be honest with him.

"I know I gave you the wrong impression the last time we met. Mostly I live my life. Having you reappear threw everything off kilter," She kissed him lightly, savouring his nearness, hesitated. "I'd rather have you in my life sometimes than never see you again. I'm not giving up Josh," she added decisively, with a gleam in her eye. "He's so lovely in bed."

The Doctor smiled, relieved. "So, is that how we play it then? Live our own lives most of the time, but if I'm in London, I can give you a call. It will always be longer for me than for you. Can you live with that? I need to make this last as long as possible." The last half to himself. It was going to hurt in the end, but the alternative was worse. He'd lost so much. He wanted to hold on to her.

"I'm not Rose, Doctor, not looking for happily ever after, cleave only unto me. I'm not sure I ever was that girl. Just thought I should have wanted it, because it was expected of me. I spent five years messing with Harry's mind because of it. Alternating between trying to be what he needed and who I was. I'm not proud of my behaviour back then. I ended up hurting him badly out of thoughtlessness before I realized I couldn't love him the way he wanted me to and let him go."

She met his eyes. "As you need to do for Rose. I suspected when I met her that her concept of your relationship could be summed up in two words, 'forever' and 'mine,' and that isn't you, could never be you. I imagine that the more you tried to push her away the tighter she clung, until you just gave up. You were ready for the relationship to end, just not like this. You can't force her to move on with her life, but you can admit to yourself that it's over, and let her go."

"I owed her so much. She saved me after the war. She gave me a reason to live. After Jack died, things changed, I changed, and suddenly she wanted something I couldn't give her." Admitting that was painful, but this was Sarah Jane, who understood him better than Rose ever could. "It would take a lot of power to cross the void, even for a message. A grand gesture. She'd probably think that it was romantic. Another reason to wait for me."

"I always distrust your grand gestures myself. There's too much of the Wizard of Oz in you."

"I always think I'm Peter Pan. Never growing up while the people around me grow old."

She smiled up at him, thoughtfully, and said, "No, not Peter Pan. You're too old and weary to play that part. We're both older than we were, even if I'm the only one who shows it."

"You're beautiful," he protested. "Still and always."

She kissed him, gently, and continued. "Definitely the Wizard. A lonely man, far from home, getting by as best you can. You can't give her a heart, courage, or a way home, Doctor. She has to find those things in herself and for what it's worth, she has more than enough of all of them. You need to convince her of that."

She was tactful enough to leave out any hint that she might need a brain, and he smiled at that, in spite of himself.

\----

In the end he decided she was right. One last grand, foolish, romantic gesture to let Rose know how difficult it was and how much it cost. Even if it was easy in the end. Easy enough to find a supernova, when you have all of time to play with. He wouldn't have long, but it wasn't time he needed. He didn't really have much to say in the end. He didn't want her to have long enough to ask a question he couldn't answer kindly. He'd miss her as a friend and as a companion but relationships do end, and Sarah had been right about that too. He needed the closure, even if Rose couldn't accept it.

He winced as he set up the equipment. He hadn't wanted to wait and the marks Sarah had left on his back and chest hadn't had time to heal fully. Just as well. Another reminder of his hypocrisy in this. It seemed almost appropriate.

The conversation went a little differently than he expected. Rose was playing the emotional card, trying to make him feel guilty. Maybe not consciously, but trying just the same. The crying, the lie about working in the shop again, the cryptic mention of a baby instead of coming out and saying "my mum's pregnant." That had hit a little too close to home.

He'd tried to get her talking, to waste their limited time on nonsense and inconsequential gossip, but in the end she'd managed to say the words anyway and he'd ended up being the one delaying, drawing things out so that he wouldn't actually have to respond. If he told her he loved her, she would have believed him; if he told her he didn't, she would have thought he was lying out of kindness. He hoped that his evasion would convince her that he didn't care about her in the same way. He'd avoided the question rather than hurt her. He wanted to believe that she would move on, as he already had.

Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain, Rose. He doesn't have what you're looking for.

_This is The Kind of Love You Never Recover From  
Don't tell me that I'm gonna find another one to take your place  
And try to face the truth  
Let me hold you close tonight  
The fog has lifted   
And the moon is so bright  
Think how sweet life could be  
If you would stay with me  
Oh stay with me  
This is The Kind of Love You Never Recover From.  
This is The Kind of Love You Never Recover From._


End file.
